Princess Aryana, A Teenage Fairy Tale
by DitzyBrunette177
Summary: Princess Aryana must venture into the forbidden magical forest against the queen mother's will in order to rescue her father, the long lost fairy king.  More coming soon.  Please read and review!


Rose-colored rays of sunlight reflected off the surface of the pond, turning the aqua water a shimmering violet and delighting the young fairies scattered among the reeds on the moss-covered shore. The tiny creatures chattered excitedly, in awe of the natural beauty displayed before them. But one fairy child sat apart from the rest. Far from the edge of the pond, she sat cross-legged under the shade of a weeping willow tree, delicate hands folded in her lap. Oblivious to the antics of the other fairy children, she sat with her eyes closed, tiny wings beating slowly as she became one with the forest to her very core. As the sun finished its journey below the horizon, one of the children called to her. The girl rose, stretched her wings, and followed the others back to the fairy glade.

Ten years later, Princess Aryana gazed longingly out the window of her palace bedroom. From her window, she could see the whole fairy glade. Better yet, beyond the glade, she could see the magical forest in which she and the rest of the fairies were forbidden to set foot. Aryana was fascinated with that forest, and often she would sit on her bed and gaze at it for hours on end. She loved the possibility of a world beyond her own, a world into which she had not been allowed since a day ten years ago when all her age-kin were let outside the clearing from sunrise to sunset, for although the queen mother was strict when it came to the forest realms, she conceded that each fairy child should at least see something of the world beyond the glade.

For a reason unknown to fairy kind, the queen mother despised the forest and all it contained. Every few years, some poor fairy would be caught wandering in the forest and punished with a sentence worse than death. No one, not even Princess Aryana, knew what the punishment entailed, but often she heard muffled screams and wails drifting from the dungeons below. Princess Aryana had never set foot in the dungeons, but every few months the queen mother would arrive at dinner a few minutes late, and from her breathlessness and the grime beneath her nails, as well as the slight terror hidden deep in the piercing black pools of the queen mother's eyes (and the queen mother almost never showed emotion), Aryana knew she had been to visit the dungeons.

With a sigh, the princess rose from her bed and turned to her tall silver vanity. Idly, she finger-combed her shoulder-length, caramel-colored locks, gazing intently at the slim figure in the mirror swathed in flimsy (delicate, the queen mother insisted) silver fabric. Aryana stuck out her tongue at the image before her. She hated everything about the ensemble; the fabric of the dress was too thin, so much so that Aryana feared it would tear at any given moment. The heels she wore were high and painful, and when she walked her tiny feet slid so that she was forced to take dainty little steps, of which the queen mother would surely approve but which made Aryana take what felt like hours just to walk from her palace room to the banquet hall. Although even Aryana had to admit she looked good, she loathed dressing in anything the queen mother picked out. But of course, the queen mother insisted she wear the ensemble, and no one, not even her daughter, dared disobey the queen, for she was a frightening woman, heartless and intimidating on a good day. Thankfully, the princess looked nothing like her. Princess Aryana's delicate features were soft, the polar opposite of her mother's harsh beauty. The queen mother's features were composed of sharp lines, and her gaze was cool and calculating. Peter, Aryana's personal guard and confidante, told her she looked just like her father, whom she had never met. Aryana's attempts at gaining information from her mother about the long lost king had proved futile thus far in her nearly seventeen-year existence.

Although the queen mother cared not at all for her only daughter, whom she considered a nuisance, good publicity (she loved to show Aryana off, for even the queen admitted what a beauty she had conceived) and nothing more, the princess's birthday banquets were rivaled only by the queen mother's herself. Every year, all the royal court gathered in the palace to dance, eat, drink, and be merry from dinner until well past sunrise. The gala was always lavish, with the best food in the land from the most talented chefs and bakers, the most expensive wine to be had, and entertainment fit for the princess Aryana was. Despite all this, Aryana dreaded her birthday. Because her few friends (the queen mother rarely allowed her daughter out of the palace) were commoners, they were not permitted at the banquet, and each year Aryana spent the night drifting from cluster to cluster of rich, important palace individuals, none of whom she cared about in the least, chatting, feigning interest in their monotonous stories, and politely pretending to drink the intoxicating liquor offered her by servants dressed in matching suits and ties (with her mother, the princess preferred to stay alert at all times; on her fifteenth birthday, she had had a tad too much sweet wine – the next morning she'd awoken passed out on the floor, with a strange older man (at least as old as her mother) kissing her square on the lips. The queen mother was constantly trying to marry her off).

Today the princess turned seventeen, the age when a fairy child gains her powers, and the banquet promised to be the largest, most lavish celebration the land had ever seen. Princess Aryana was not looking forward to it.

As she teetered down the familiar maze of palace corridors, Princess Aryana could feel her powers begin to brew inside her. The rush of warmth throughout her body was incomparable to any sensation she had ever felt before. It was as if she was filled with liquid fire, and with each rush of heat she doubled over, breathing heavily, her vision spinning. In this manner, the princess progressed painfully towards the banquet hall, arriving just as the queen mother was beginning a toast in her honor.

The princess walked through the heavy oak doors, spluttering and breathless, and everything came to a standstill. After several long moments, the queen mother directed her frigid gaze at her only daughter. "So lovely of you to join us, Aryana." The coldness in her mother's voice made the princess shudder. "Why don't you take your seat and we shall proceed with the festivities – this time with the guest of honor _in attendance_."

Blushing furiously, Aryana slowly made her way to the head of the table, next to the queen mother herself. The queen cleared her throat, far more noisily than necessary in Aryana's opinion, and continued. "As I was saying, today marks the passage of precisely seventeen years since the day I gave birth to my daughter, the _lovely_ Princess Aryana. Today my sweet, sweet child will gain her powers and take flight for the first time…" The queen mother's speech was standard, making points everyone attending the banquet knew by heart, and if not for the icy, mocking edge to her mother's voice, Aryana thought the speech would have convinced even her of the queen's motherly love. Alas, Aryana knew better, and the tone of the queen mother's voice only confirmed the fact that the princess's mother cared not for her at all. But over the years, Princess Aryana had learned to tune out her mother's frosty words, and instead of listening to the queen mother's speech, she found herself pondering her new powers.

Like every fairy child, Aryana had been waiting for the day she'd gain her powers the entirety of her young life. What she had not anticipated was the pain that would come with their formation. Scouring her brain for the countless times she had asked the palace elders about their seventeenth birthdays, Aryana found that most had mentioned that their powers came quickly and painlessly, and in a rush of _coolness_, not warmth. Panicked, as soon as the queen mother finished her speech and motioned for the servants to bring out the hundreds of silver platters piled with sweetmeats, breads, pastries, soups, and all forms of caramelized fruits and vegetables, the princess fled the banquet hall. Stopping briefly to shed her painful high heels, Aryana ran as fast as she could while still hindered by the painful heat flooding her body. She turned a corner, felt her delicate legs give way, and the last thing the princess remembered was the light reflected off the marble floor winking at her as she fell towards the cold, hard ground.


End file.
